


Stamina

by bauer



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Combine Shenanigans, Fucking Machines, Nipple Play, Other, Overstimulation, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 19:12:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11386596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bauer/pseuds/bauer
Summary: Nothingis worse than the Wingate.





	Stamina

**Author's Note:**

> AKA why Patrick wasn't #1 overall.
> 
> This is one of those universe where sex is part of the job description in the NHL, for reasons. Consent levels reflect that, but for the most part it's decent IMO. Hope you enjoy!

Nolan makes it through Wingate. His breakfast does not.

His next guide, Michael, is good about letting him sit and sip on a bottle of water until his stomach stops rolling, joking about guys the year before who faced the same fate. “They all went pretty high. Staff like seeing that tenacity, you know?” Mike says.

Still, Nolan’s legs feels rubbery when Mike gets him up and herds him back towards the private rooms. He’s supposed to be feeling it. A full recovery was never in the picture, however nice Mike is. Nolan takes off his shirt when asked and tries not to blush as Mike straps him into a heart rate monitor. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, after however many years of locker rooms and prodding trainers, but something about taking this next step makes him want to fidget. He’s never had to do full endurance training before.

Mike taps at the small monitor a few times, then says, “Oops, looks like I went to easy on you. We’re just going to do a few jumping jacks until your heart rate is back up, alright?” Nolan does.  It’s not much, nothing like it’ll be after games, but it’s enough to satisfy Mike, who says after a minute, “Alright, you’re good. You’ve already been briefed on this next test, but do you have any questions before going in?”

“Uh, no, thanks,” Nolan says, even though he does. All the vets back in Brandon swore that it’s just something you have to experience.

“Alright, then I have a question for you: do you have a position preference?” Mike says, easy as anything. Of course, he has to do this half a dozen more times today, it isn’t a big question to him.

“I—my back?” Nolan responds quickly, trying to seem casual. It’s the position he sleeps in, so it can’t be too bad, right?

Mike nods, smiles, then walks up to one of the doors on the right. He knocks twice then pauses. When no one responds, he opens the door and motions Nolan in. This is meant to be a low intensity test. Nolan doesn’t have to do anything. There’s no reason for his heart to be beating out his chest.

Once they’re in the room, Mike takes the last of Nolan’s clothing and has him get on the exam table. The vinyl catches against his skin, but he keeps his face carefully blank.

What Nolan doesn’t expect are the stirrups. It makes sense, in retrospect. They don’t tie prospects down for this, but they need to be able to do their jobs. Nolan pushes his heels against the back corner and stays loose as Mike adjusts their position. He can feel the cool air acutely against the newly exposed flesh. It hits him how vulnerable he is in this position, his dick still soft and visible against his hip. His nose itches. He squeezes the edges of the table.

“Have you been fingered before?” Mike asks. It feels sudden more sudden than it is.

“Yes? You know, in preparation,” Nolan responds, flustered and embarrassed. It wasn’t wholly the truth; a girl had tried once while she blew him, and he’d let his hand wander a few times while jerking off. He’d backed out every time, skittish and oversensitive.

Mike nods and smiles, a plain professional thing, as he shakes out a glove. He rolls a chair between Nolan’s legs and starts speaking in an even lull, “We have a timeframe to keep with here, but I’ll do my best to help warm you up. This will go easier if you bear down and relax.”

Those two things seem contradictory to Nolan, but he breathes in deep as two cool fingers come in contact with his hole, rubbing soothingly for a few seconds before starting to edge in slowly. The feeling makes Nolan’s skin tingle and his legs tense. He forces himself to relax against the first pressing into him, thinking back to the advice of guys back in Brandon who’d done this before. His fingers twist and scissor Nolan open, but Mike doesn’t make any waves; this step is only perfunctory. 

Eventually, Mike leans back and takes his hand with him. Nolan feels cool again,  _ looser.  _ There’s the rattle of a moving cart. Nerves roll in his stomach, and he loses his cool for a second, can’t help but look up and let his eyes follow Mike. The cart turns out to be a whole rig, its mechanics only barely concealed. Jutting out of it is an unaffiliated, beige dildo, that Mike is rolling a condom onto.

Nolan lets his head fall back. The fluorescent lights shine through his eyelids.

There’s another creak, then something cool and large brushes up against where he’s spread out. He inhales sharply when the head is guided into him without warning. It’s like a shot; Mike didn’t give him time to freak out about it. Nolan tries not to roll his hips, isn’t sure how it’d look if he accidently pushed it out.

“I’m going to turn it on now, alright, Nolan?” Mike says. Nolan nodding and the machine starting happen simultaneously.

Nolan’s mouth drops open, although he keeps himself from making a sound. Even with lube, the thrust drags, sending hot flares through his stomach, his legs. He’s not sure if it  _ hurts, _ but—

When Nolan’s dick is done getting harder, Mike taps a note into his iPad. He begins to read off, “Alright, Nolan, teams also like having information on possible erogenous zones and fixations. To limit the amount of foreign sensations, I will be using my bare hands to administer the following tests, having followed strenuous cleanliness standards and certification processes. Do you have any objections?”

“No,” Nolan gasps. He doesn’t realize how slow the machine was going until it picks up, hitting a rhythm more like fucking, Nolan imagines, except it never stutters, solid thuds echoing through the room with every thrust. It takes effort to keep his breath even.

Mike eyes him for a second, then nudges the machine a few inches. On the next thrust in, the dildo drags against a raw spot inside Nolan, his  _ prostate, _ that makes him yelp. The stirrups shake for a second with the effort it takes Nolan to keep his legs open.

“There we go,” Mike says brightly. He walks alongside the table, then continues, “Alright, I’m going to start now.”

His fingers trail lightly along the underside of Nolan’s legs, swift and efficient. Nolan jolts when he touches the back of his knees, trembles as he traces traces up the inside his thighs. Just as quickly, Mike’s hand is off Nolan and typing again. It goes on like that, Mike feeling his hands, arm, neck, then recording his responses. They’re all teasing whispers against the relentless thrall between his legs. It’s just a  _ toy, _ some cheap plastic on a simple motor that’s cracking him apart from the inside. His cock feels heavy where it’s drooling against his stomach, sensitive and untouched.

After a caress of the ear, Mike says, “Open your mouth for me.” Nolan follows the direction, jaw trembling. A thumb traces his bottom lip and shoving lightly against his teeth. It’s gone as quick as the other spots, only this time it’s followed closely by two fingers pressing into his mouth. They pet his tongue, pushing down softly. It’s not even so much the sensation, but having someone just touch him wherever, hold him in position with nothing but Nolan’s own obedience, starts to catch up with Nolan, making his head feel numb and his dick throb.

Suddenly, Mike mutters under his breath, “Oh, crap.” Nolan can only worry for a second as the fingers are withdrawn from his mouth and Mike leans over him. Cool, wet fingers settle over his nipple—strenuous cleaning standards, eh?—and rolls the flesh of his pec. They were already hard from the cold, but they feel weirdly sensitive now, too. Mike’s fingers feel like they’re tugging directly on Nolan’s dick. It takes a concentrated effort to not squirm, to keep his shoulder blades against the table.

That is, until Mike’s fingers suddenly turn sharp, twisting Nolan’s nipple with a painful pinch that makes Nolan gasp, then moan, because he’s  _ coming, _ a hand on his chest and a dildo in his ass but nothing on his dick.

It takes Mike a fumbling second to turn off the machine, because that wasn’t right, Nolan wasn’t supposed to come yet, because—

“There were, uh, supposed to be additional anal and penile testing in the first stage,” Mike says. “Nothing to worry about, we just… assume sensitivity going forward.”

Except it clearly  _ was, _ because surprise is coloring Mike’s usual professionalism. Nolan knows this isn’t supposed to take a few minutes, it’s an  _ endurance  _ test, and none of the guys back home ever talked about it being too good.

They take a few minutes to wipe the come off his stomach and “recover.” Not too long; Nolan knows a quick refractory period is admired.

“Are you sure?” Mike says, eyebrow raised. “There’s no point in rushing—”

“I’m sure, just… please. Do whatever.” Nolan doesn’t have to ask a second time. The machine starts up again, starting a little bit faster this time and turned up sooner. He thinks it might be a little easier the second time around; he’s sore, a little wrung out.

Mike doesn’t skip over his dick this time around. He handles it gently as he clasps a thick black band around the head. Nolan is confused for moment, until Max taps another button and the vibrations start. The sound that comes out Nolan’s mouth is uncontrollable, a sharp yelp that sounds pathetic even in his own ears. It  _ hurts, _ makes his stomach clench and his thighs shake. Static fills his ears, nothing coming in or or out of his mind outside of the mantra of  _ oh god oh god oh god. _

Mike smiles sympathetically, but he doesn’t hesitate to reach into a drawer and draw out a thin chain with bulky ends. Nolan can’t even think about what it could be, can barely keep himself from thrashing between the two things already on him, so it really is a surprise when Mike clasps one over Nolan’s nipple, the same one he’d pinched before.

He loses his last thread of control, face a mess and body shaking. All he wants is to hold on awhile long, put up some good numbers, prove himself—

The chain tugs as Mike goes to attach the other end to Nolan’s second nipple. Nolan shouts or screams or cries and comes, again, so fucking quickly, overwhelmed and absolutely torn apart, from the middle of his stomach out.

He loses it, for a second, and when comes back to, Mike is cleaning him up, removing the toys. “Wait,” Nolan says wetly, delirious. “I can go a third time, I swear, I’ll be better—”

Mike smiles kindly, but he says, “Nolan, you did great today. Don’t worry. The NHL will be happy to have you.”

Nolan gets up from the table and puts his clothes on, arms and legs shaky, and leaves.

 

On his way out, he runs into Nico. He’s still wearing his combine clothes, too. They’ve spoken a few times, enough that Nolan thinks they’re friendly enough for him to go up and ask, “Hey, man, what are you up to? I thought you had a morning start time, did you forget something?

Nico smiles brightly, but doesn’t move any closer. They’re both sweating, Nolan notices. “Nah, just got out. That last test, you know?” Nice responds, rolling his eyes like what can you do?

Nolan tries his best not to blanch. He forces himself to respond casually, “Oh, yeah, man, definitely. Glad it’s over. Listen, I’m going to go back to my hotel room and shower, catch you later, alright?”

**Author's Note:**

> nsfw tmblr


End file.
